Notes from Nonna
Amy Morris-Young — who learned from both the Jesuits and her Nonna to view the world not only with her eyes, but with her heart and soul — shares that perspective in her monthly column.
If there is one thing my short trip to heaven taught me, it's that the last thing death means is that we are done, through, finished. Just the opposite.
In our crazy life, my husband and I have found that each time we make a plan, and dare to write it down on the calendar in ink, the logistics angels start to giggle.
The lyrics of hymns, the words of prayers I've prayed countless times, the responses we say by rote: they comfort and stir me, awe and humble me, hit me in the gut and always reduce me to tears.
While I appreciate that aging is a scary process for all of us — and my decision signifies my embracing that instead of running from it — I certainly don't think it qualifies me as either inspiring or brave.